The Snows of Winterfell
by whiskawaybelf
Summary: Jon Snow, bastard of Winterfell and his first love Pippa Snow, bastard and servant to the Starks. Covers their romance and separation as the Game of Thrones begins.
1. Chapter 1

"Father told us the King is heading North…"

The girl to whom this was directed might as well have been a statue for all the stock she put in his words. Her eyes flickered like irritable little birds, never quite settling on one spot before jumping off to another. She didn't even turn to look at him as she crouched down slightly to scan lower, she looked deranged. "Have you seen Arya? I can't find her and she's been called for needlework."

"You don't have to bend down like that, you know. You're barely taller than she is."

She turned just long enough to shoot him a dirty look, she didn't correct him though. She might still be growing but it was unlikely and most of the Stark children were catching up quickly. It was a sore point and Jon knew it.

"Have you checked by the training field?" He picked up speed to catch up with her. His longer legs made it simple, and trailing behind made him feel like one of the younger brood that she cared for, they were of an age and he held enough rank over her to feel frustrated by his treatment, he might be a bastard but the servant girl should defer to him, shouldn't she? He caught her wrapping the strings of her apron around her fingers, tightly enough to turn them white and then unwrapping them, then starting the process again. Jon reached out and tugged them out of her hand, feeling himself soften his stance slightly. Arya could be a difficult charge, and it wouldn't just be the younger girl in trouble if Pippa couldn't get her under control.

"Of course, and the stable and the kitchens. I feel like she's running just ahead of me and leading me in circles. Lady Stark is going to roast the both of us and serve as at the King's feast." Her dark curls were fighting the pins in them with a fervor that most knights would have admired. The whole chase had only served to frustrate the girl. She felt like she was at a hunt only she couldn't follow any of the step that would actually lead to her finding her prey, it felt like a waste of time and energy and she knew that Arya would be found when Arya was hungry, or bored of waiting for someone to find her or any of the hundreds of other reasons Arya had for doing was Arya did.

Jon's hands itched to tuck those curls back, but he curled his fingers into fists and used his elbow to nudge her, "So you _were_ paying attention_._"

She rolled her eyes, "Of course. I always pay attention when you Stark pups open your pretty little-" She didn't finish her sentence which was probably for the best since it wasn't likely to be appropriate or flattering to anyone involved.

She had tucked her skirts up to a height that any other woman on the premises would have found shocking. Was_ finding_ shocking. Pippa didn't seem to mind, she ran across the courtyard and slid along the mud, almost tripping and spraying it all up her legs and the inside of her dress. She reached down alongside a horseless cart and hooked a thin little leg and threw it over her shoulder to pick up Arya like a sack of potatoes. The shocked girl dropped the tart she was holding but didn't seem to comprehend what had happened enough to struggle. Jon stared at the two of them, before laughter took over and he found he couldn't stop. Arya's face flicked from shock to disbelief to frustration to anger, Pippa grit her teeth and brought the girl back down to the ground, holding her firmly by the wrist.

"Let's go."

Arya tried to pull away slightly, but found her captor was none too willing to let her have any sense of freedom, "Don't make me, Pip. You know how awful it is. Just tell them you couldn't find me."

Jon pulled into the other side of Arya and gently put his hand on her shoulder. Pippa shook her head vehemently, "You know I can't do that, don't make this anymore difficult Arya, please. Let's get you cleaned up, and I'll bring you something hot from the kitchens."

Arya dug her heels into the mud and put her free hand on her hips. Both Pippa and Jon stopped. It wouldn't have been difficult to drag the girl along. She was a little slip of a thing, powered more by willpower than muscle. Regardless, Pippa turned to face her, kneeling down slightly to be face to face with Arya. Arya frowned at the older girl, "You wouldn't treat _Sansa_ like this."

Pippa frowned but didn't let go, "Sansa doesn't treat _me_ like this, does she? I'm not a hunting dog, little wolf. And I am not made to go hunting for little girls who don't want to have warm things to eat or a nice soft place to sit. I'm a servant, not a slave, and I'm certainly not your personal whipping boy. If you don't get found, it is not only you who is scolded." Arya looked to interrupt, but Pippa held up a finger, "I am not your enemy. I am doing my duty to your Lord Father and your Lady Mother. If you want to muck about in the mud, be more careful about whom you're born to, yes?"

Arya glared into her face for another second before nodding, in return Pippa let her wrist go and kept walking towards Arya's chambers.

Pippa looked over Arya's head at Jon, her brow creasing slightly. He shrugged in response. She raised her eyebrows, her eyes bugging out slightly, he rolled his eyes, quirking his own eyebrows up for a second. This seemed to satisfy Pippa and she turned her attention forward again; then brought her hand gently to the back of Arya's neck. Arya glanced up at her, "Could I have a strawberry tart?"

"Will you wash behind your ears?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

Jon walked with them to the hallway outside Arya's room but stayed outside as Pippa ushered the girl in. He loitered for a moment until Pippa slipped back out. She had a streak of mud across her cheek and her skirts were still sodden, when she took his hand, hers was cold. They pressed themselves into an alcove, and she let go, tucking her hands into the pockets of her apron. "You won't tell, will you? What I said to Arya?"

Jon almost laughed; she looked to penitent now, where she had been so fierce before. The curls were still uncontrolled all over her face except for the few plastered down by rain and mud, he itched to shake her and hold her. "Of course I won't. You ought to be more careful, someone will hear you one day and tell Lady Catelyn."

"And I'll be back to starting fires in the morning and helping the stable hands birth horses. I know." She settled back against the stone wall. The tilt of her cheek and the jut of her chin never seemed to agree with the way she bowed her head and mimicked the other servants at their work. She was a wild-thing, not unlike Arya, but too accustomed to drudgery to fight as hard as the younger girl did. She was a decent liar, good enough to imitate but never enough to avoid standing out, even that little bit. It was the only reason she could hope to be a match for the Stark pups and it was the same reason that she had gone without dinner more often than not when her role had been kitchen drudge. She wasn't made for walls. But walls certainly made everything a great deal more comfortable, she liked comfort. "So. What's got you so excited about the King coming North then?" Green eyes caught his grey ones, and Jon saw for a moment the sparkle that he was sure belonged just to him.

"It's nothing, _you_ should get back to Arya, she's bound to have flooded the place by now."

Her brow furrowed again, and he could have sworn he saw a bit of rejection in set of her shoulders. It gave him a bit of satisfaction to have that control, even if it wasn't good or kind, she wasn't particularly any one of those things either. "Fine. I'll see you at dinner Jon Snow." She brushed past him and slipped back into the room, the two girls seemed to be friends again, judging by the lilting laughter.

Jon set off to find Robb. He'd had enough of the mysteries of womenfolk for now, even ones who paraded around in mud and pulled him into alcoves. Pippa was a constant question and he found the answer wasn't as important to him the longer he was around her. That was a problem, wasn't it?


	2. Chapter 2

**Nota Bene: I own nothing to do with Asoiaf, these are based mostly on the books, but some of the television show's characterization creeps in. I picture the characters to be roughly the ages depicted in the show, give or****_ take_**** a year. If anyone would be kind enough to review, it would certainly be appreciated. I love constructive criticism and I'd love to know what you guys want to see as well. **

The King's retinue was bigger than Jon had ever seen before. They came in all their finery, their jewels and their furs, and they seemed to fill the walls of Winterfell like too many fish stuck in a barrel. It wasn't a comfortable fit for anyone, except for maybe King Robert who seemed to be comfortable enough no matter where he stood. Jon was standing with the squires where no one could see him and only a row behind him stood Pippa. She had a helmet behind her back from Arya's latest moment of insanity, but the way she craned her neck this way and that was quite the distraction from what she held. It occurred to Jon that she had probably never seen that many people in one place at one time. He glanced over and caught her eye, mimicking her gaping mouth. She crossed her eyes and made a rude gesture at him. He put a hand over his heart, looking hurt. She rolled her eyes, and then she was being elbowed and he was distracted by the King demanding to go to the Stark's crypt and there wasn't any more time for teasing.

Pippa wasn't skilled enough to help Sansa and Arya with their hair and clothing for that night so she was stuck helping the kitchen set up the banquet and lighting the hundreds of candles that littered the room. By the time she was released from her duties to go change she had dozens of little holes burned into her sleeves, it truly was a miracle she hadn't set herself or the hall alight. No one could understand how she had managed to work her way up to the rank she had when her competence with simple tasks was only slightly above Hodor's. It was as if her mind was always somewhere much further than anyone could guess, and even fire, or ice, or screaming children couldn't quite draw her all the way back.

She had that air about her when she walked into Robb on the way back to her room. He couldn't remember the last time someone _hadn't _been aware of him, in the halls everyone else seemed to know where he was and who he was and how he was. As the heir to Winterfell, Robb Stark was never far from anyone's mind, he took it for granted that anywhere he stepped there would be room for him. Winterfell seemed to shape itself to him, it had since his birth. It took him a second to react and catch her by the shoulders before she actually touched the floor and it was only that that seemed to jar her from her reverie. She dipped into an awkward curtsey, "I'm sorry Lord Stark. I have no idea what's got into me."

Robb laughed, checking around them for any of the particularly prudish servants and found the two of them almost alone, he shoved her gently, "Please Pippa, it's not what's _in_ you, but what you've never managed to get _out_."

She mimicked his scan of the halls before her hand darted out and flicked his wrist, her face breaking into a grin as she scampered out of his reach, "Well maybe if you didn't walk around looking over everyone's head like you already owned the place, you might see someone about to walk into you."

It was probably because she was the only girl his age that didn't preen when he walked by that Robb liked Pippa. Not _liked,_ not like Jon seemed to like her. He wouldn't hesitate steal a kiss maybe. Tumbling her into bed wasn't out of the question either. But it wasn't some forbidden love story between the heir of the North and the wild peasant. He liked that she was odd and crude at times. That she dared to shove and flick if it suited her to do so, though never when there was someone around. He thought of her as he might think of Theon or Jon, though she didn't hold such a high place in his esteem. Regardless she was a friend. Good for a laugh and sometimes to shock him into thinking something over, even if she was almost always wrong. No, He never imagined her by his side at dinners like he did with some of the nobles ladies, and she certainly lacked the beauty of Cersei Lannister, or even little Myrcella with her golden curls and sweet nature. Still, if he didn't think Jon might punch him… "You'll pay for that."

"Yeah?" She tossed her hair defiantly before promptly dropping her gaze when someone streamed past them in the hall. "I'm sorry my Lord thinks so," she murmured dropping into subservience almost convincingly, "as he is quite mistaken. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attempt to make myself presentable, something I'm sure my Lord would agree is a reasonable use of my time." She curtsied again, wobbling over her ankle and catching herself just in time to make the dip and then hurried walk forward look almost deliberate. Robb's laugh followed her into her room.

The change to be 'presentable' was one that she had perfected and it may have been one of the reasons she had managed to raise herself as much as she had. It starting with changing out of the clothes she had ruined. No. Not ruined, but she would need to bribe someone to help her mend them. Sansa might do it if she offered her enough lemon cakes. How the girl stayed so slim was a mystery even the maesters might have difficulty deciphering. And now she was off on some daydream about Prince Joffery, who, to his credit was the very image of a perfect prince. She could see why Sansa was besotted even if _she_ preferred the rougher Northern men, at least they seemed real.

She wondered if Jon would be seated with his family. She would be seated several tables below, where the personal servants sat, not so close to offend, but close enough to jump to their duties the moment they were wanted. Would they hide Jon? She shook herself out of it, what did it matter?

She poured water that had gone icy cold in a bowl and splashed it all over. She liked it better this way, warm water made her sleepy. Cold water reminded her of being outside these walls. Of the rivers and streams that filled her dream. She used her fingers to try and tame her hair, but she knew a brush would make it explode. No need for that. The Court ladies had enough going on with their hair. She didn't particularly want to look like them. Once she was dry, she shimmied into a new dress, a hand me down from Sansa who had outgrown it months ago. The lacings couldn't go as perfectly around her waist, she didn't have the younger girl's figure but she thought she looked nice enough. She pulled her hair into a loose, neat knot at the base of her neck, and she even pinched her cheeks a bit to give them colour. There. Enough. The banquet would be starting soon and she still needed to usher all the Stark children to their seats. She caught another glance at herself and her thoughts flashed back to Jon, her cheeks lit up. She could feel the heat. Damn it. She couldn't drink much before she got the children in bed, but she planned on ending the night drunk enough to forget any of them. Blushing was not something she appreciated. Wine might help her forget.


	3. Chapter 3

**Nota Bene: Apologies for the wait. I'll probably change the update schedule not to coincide with the worst day of the week. Thank you for the follows! hope you enjoy.**

Pippa thought that kings were supposed to be strong and proud. She had heard stories about the ancient kings who had been both brutal and noble and above all _powerful_. Now that she got a good look at King Robert, without his jewelled court around him and his majestic horse to gild him, she found that she was utterly disappointed. This fat man looked like he would die of some sexually transmitted disease before he reached fifty. He was loud and drunken, like any of the knights that she saw every day. She didn't understand how this fat stag had managed to defeat the _dragons_ that had come before. Pippa understood animals and it didn't seem logical in the least. She tried not to stare under the distracted gaze of Lady Stark, who tried to keep Queen Cersei entertained. Now, if The Queen had been the one leading the charge, Pippa was almost certain she would have followed her into the battle. The Lannisters were all that was strong and gold in this hall. A lion against a dragon was still a close call but there was something feral to the Queen underneath her perfect beauty and her cold, polite manner. Pippa wasn't sure she liked her, but she was a force of nature, you could feel it. Pippa had never seen the usually unshakable Lady Stark look so uncertain, almost dwarfed by the Queen. Lady Stark was a strong woman and lovely in her own right, but here she was scrambling, ill at ease. Pippa frowned, it felt uncomfortable to watch them.

They had hidden Jon among the squires where he seemed to be steadily drinking, Pippa would have loved to be among them, but she also couldn't help thinking that where she sat now was as good a spot as any could have hoped for. All of the personal servants who were not of enough status to be seated up on the dais sat here, a bit off to the side and hidden but she could keep an eye on the little wolves and not be of any bother to anyone. Arya was already restless, jittering in her seat and steadily ignoring the poor chubby little prince they had put at her side. Bran and Rickon seemed to be doing passably well, though Bran looked bored and Rickon looked a bit dumbfounded and steps from falling asleep. It had been a long day for him. Sansa was under the watchful eye of Septa Mordane, too old to need a nursemaid, but not old enough to have full control over her decisions. Pippa caught Robb's eye and cross her eyes at him, making a face. He couldn't do or say anythingin reply from where he say but he covered his face as he started to laugh. Pippa smirked when he had to explain to Princess Myrcella exactly what had been so very funny.

She had drunk two glasses of wine under the watchful gaze of Septa Mordane, who passed the pitcher of drink to her. Pippa sighed and handed it over to the maid on her left, but she didn't make a fuss. She had already spotted a few squires who had brought and filled their wineskins with it and it would only take a little bit of flirting and a bit of pressure on her part to get them to give it to her. She wasn't actually particularly powerful, not even in the slightest, but being so close to the Stark children meant she could get away with just a bit more than others, demanding a bit of wine with a wink wouldn't hurt anyone. She turned around to try and find Jon in the crowd of squires, as if somehow she might be able to communicate that this was a plan and they should definitely be following it. He wasn't there anymore. One of the other boys just shrugged at her, as if to say _he just left. _She wanted to stand up right then and there and find him, but that wasn't an option. When she had turned back to check on the children, she found that Arya had flung something, stuffing most likely, into Sansa's lovely auburn hair. Jeyne Poole was already helping her clean it off and Robb had picked up Arya and was coming off the raised platform. Bran and Rickon followed obediently. Their night was over.

Bran went to bed easily enough, especially once his direwolf had curled up in bed with him. Usually, Lady Stark wouldn't have let the creature sleep in the same bed, they were quickly growing so large that it was dangerous, what if either child or wolf rolled on the other while they slept? Pippa allowed it for the night, she was eager to finish her duties and enjoy the evening. Rickon fussed for a bit, but he fell asleep the moment she doused the torches. She trusted Robb could handle Arya, but she found herself detouring to her room regardless, just to be safe. The halls were empty except for the sullen squires and guards who had been unlucky enough to get guard duty that night. Most were drunk already, they might as well have gone to the banquet. She caught one with a wineskin that was nearly a quarter empty and him already almost slumping. Convincing him that he should give it to her was almost too easy. She held it behind her back as subtly as she could until she made it to Arya's room. She needn't have bothered going. Robb was closing the door as he left, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Making sure I did it right?"

Pippa rolled her eyes, "Yes. Blame me?"

"No."

She produced the bag of wine, an illicit grin spreading over her face, "I'll even share with you, my lord, if you tell me where Jon went?"

Robb grinned, "Who says I want any of that? It's probably piss compared to what I get to drink."

Pippa turned her back to him, "Problem is, you have to go back to that banquet and keep drinking _there_. I'm free now to do as I please. And you won't drink very much with that little lion princess beside you. You wouldn't dare. You'll need wine somehow _outside_ of the hall. It so happens I have some."

Robb stared at her for too long, calculating the wins and loses and eventually he nodded. "I saw him go to the stables, he looked upset, might be best to leave him be."

Pippa frowned, "I'll go remind him to smile. He forgets sometimes, you know. I'll meet you outside of the library when the banquet officially ends." She ducked into a quick curtsy and headed towards the stables.


	4. Chapter 4

**Nota bene: I'm sorry for the delay. Excuses are the worst so I'll just say that I'm quite sorry. I'll try not to take a month to update from now on. **

The sunlight filtering into the room awoke Pippa who found herself in Robb's bed with her head on Robb's chest and her hand entwined in Jon's. She lifted herself to her elbows and surveyed the tangle of bodies. She sighed and rolled her eyes though there was no one awake to see it, the idea of having to untangle what had become a pile of interwoven limbs was more than she could possibly handle. Her head was aching so fiercely that she thought her very eyes were liable to pop out if she didn't keep her eyes closed against the light. She felt Robb shift beneath her and that started to wake Jon. She closed her eyes and pretended to still be deep in sleep again, she almost added some snoring but that seemed to take things too far. Besides, she needed to feign waking up at some point. She felt Jon pull his hand from hers and she took that as her cue to lazily stretch out and moan her dislike of the current situation.

Upon closer examination, Robb's shirt was completely gone underneath his vest and Jon's was half undone. Pippa's overdress was draped over her legs like a blanket, and her corset's laces were horribly knotted. She pointed to it, raising an eyebrow, "Would anyone be able to explain this? Why were we trying to unlace my corset?"

Robb laughed, ever the summer child and in good humor as he gathered his own clothing, "A drinking game gone perhaps a bit far, Pip. Though I do believe it was your suggestion that we play it."

Pippa glanced over at Jon who was turning an odd shade of pink as he gathered his boots and tried to find his belt. He was avoiding her eyes as of his very being depended on it and she didn't know whether to smack him or shake him. Neither would have been appropriate. "And I'm sure you both protested _so_ strongly." That got his attention; he glanced up at her and shrugged, as if to say _Damned if I remember what happened_.

_He had already been deep into his cups when she found him outside the stable the night before. A sword hung from his grasp and the dummy he had been beating was sliced thoroughly and sporadically through. Jon was a brilliant sword fighter, but his strokes were clumsy by the time she got close enough for him to see her. He barely noted her presence until she spoke. _

_"Is he dead yet? I know when I've lost my arms and most of my organs, I tend to stay down." She leaned against the wall, trying not to let her concern show. He hadn't been nearly this bad when she had left to tend to the children and now he seemed to be almost a man possessed. _

_His reply was curt and short "I spoke to Benjen." _

_She didn't reply right away, choosing instead to hitch up her skirts and stand beside him. She took a moment to make sure he wasn't about to start swinging again and then pried his fingers from the sword. She wasn't accustomed to its weight but it had a gravity that she liked. She held on to it and looked back to him, tilting her head slightly as if to say Go on._

_"I don't want to talk to you about it." He reached out to take his sword back, but Pippa stepped back and out of his reach. He was sloppy with drink, his dark eyes followed her in the dark with a delay she didn't like and each step seemed to veer off its course a bit before he could find his center again. "This isn't a joke Pippa."_

_She shook her head, "It isn't. But you'll cut off your own leg if I give this back. Come drink with me and Robb. Leave this night behind, it'll still be waiting for you in the morning." She leaned the sword against the stable and extended her hand to him. He overstepped to reach for her and they ended up almost chest to chest. Too close by half. She shifted to check that no one could see them but the darkness was a decent cloak and his dark clothing took care of the rest. _

_Jon huffed as she shifted away from him. Of course she wouldn't want to be seen alone in a stable with the Bastard of Winterfell, she was low enough in the ranks not to be bothered, he had thought. She was a bastard herself, worse even than him and still she backed away. "Pippa…"_

_She grinned up at him, suddenly all good spirits and charm again, "Yes?" Now that she was far enough away that he couldn't see her blush, she was collected again. She captured his hand and brought him with her as she left the stable, bringing the sword along with her. It was too lovely to leave lying in a dirty stable. _

The sword lay on the corner of Robb's room seemingly cushioned on what appeared to be half of Robb's bedding. The gleam of it caught Robb's eye as he leaned over to help Pippa retie her corset. Jon still wouldn't look at him, which was a problem he hadn't expected. They were brothers and this was hardly the worst thing they had woken to together. He frowned at the back of Pippa's head as she stepped out of his reach the moment she felt he was finished. In one quick move she had put on her dress and was tying it up herself. Her hair hung in heavy waves down her back, the ties and pins that had held it in place were forgotten somewhere on the floor and in his covers. A bird's screech whistled through his window and all three of them jumped, the cold silence finally broken.

It was Pippa who started laughing first. Her shoulders shook as she buried her face in her hands and slowly the burble of her amusement filled the room. Robb stared at her for what seemed like years before he was caught up in it and laughing just as loudly as she was. Jon was the last to join. He surveyed his companions as if they were slowly going insane, but even he couldn't keep it from affecting him. They were all bent double, tears streaming from their eyes. Pippa made it to the bed and collapsed on it, holding her stomach and balanced precariously on the cliff between laughter and tears. She had been stupid, stupid and reckless and she had gambled two friendships to feel like she was a part of their world for a night. These boys could destroy her with a word. Luckily they were laughing as hard as she was. Their arms were around her and that stale silence that had woken them and the forced courtesy was melting away. Somehow, when the laughter ended, it took the awful feeling that something had been broken with it.

Jon passed Pippa her boots and held her hand a moment too long, quietly, so Robb could barely hear, he asked to walk her to her room. To talk to her. A knot tightened in her stomach but she nodded, whatever he had to say wouldn't disappear because she pretended to have duties to attend to. She pushed her hair out of her face and he picked up the sword and there was no reason to stay safe in Robbs' room anymore. They would have to talk in the hall.

The three of them agreed to meet that night and try to piece together the previous evening but no one particularly felt like discussing it then and there. The Lannisters were still in Winterfell and there was a king to please. The night of festivities would have to wait a few more hours before being uncovered.


	5. Chapter 5

**Nota Bene: Quick chapter with another one up later this week or next week. Thank you for reading!**

Jon was quiet as they wandered down the halls of Winterfell together. It was odd, being beside the person he had most wanted to spend a night with and now having done it, badly and in the entirely wrong way, he found he didn't know what to say to her. Besides, it wasn't like he had bedded her, and as far as he remembered, Robb hadn't quite managed it either. It had been a sloppy night for all involved but nothing they could not fix. Nothing had been broken. Still he didn't quite know what to say to Pippa. She had gone awfully pale and her freckles stood out like little pinpricks on her skin. He couldn't think of the last time she had looked quite this miserable. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and before he knew it, she had folded into him, her head tucking into the curve of his neck.

"You've no right to be angry at me, you know."

Jon wasn't sure whether to sigh or laugh. Leave it to Pippa to refuse to back down even as she held tighter. Leave it to Pippa to be stubborn even when she had the most to lose. He found he almost didn't mind. This was the girl who he cared about, not that silent creature he had woken to.

"I'm not angry with you."

She released some of her hold and pulled back slightly, just enough to catch his eyes and try to see if the truth was in them. He was always serious, like his father. The Stark line was so prominent in him; it had painted him in the wolves' very image. It had been fortune's cruelest trick to bestow the title of Bastard on him. His stubborn jaw, lightly dusted with uneven stubble, his dark hair, even the circles under his eyes were all what made him. The fact he was shorter than Robb and pretended they were of a height, the way he loved Arya dearly and the way they seemed more siblings than her legitimate siblings did. The way he fought until his hands bled because he had something to prove. Jon Snow always had something to prove. Her eyes darted from thing to thing that she adored about him and settled on his lips.

"I kissed you last night. Didn't I?"

He gulped and in an instant his eyes were everywhere except looking at her and he dropped his arms from around her and kept walking. "You kissed Robb too. It didn't mean anything."

She made a noise that sounded almost like a growl and her hands were on her hips and her cheeks were lighting up and hiding her freckles under a flush of deep red. "It didn't? How do you know?"

Jon kept walking, expecting that she would catch up. "You'd been drinking, we all had. It's not your fault, you probably just got lonely."

He looked over his shoulder and found she hadn't moved at all. He wasn't exactly sure what he would call the expression on her face, but it certainly wasn't one that he would have wanted directed at him. She almost spat out the words. "My fault? Of course it isn't. It takes two to kiss, Jon Snow."

Jon turned to look at her, his breath came out in a huff of frustration, why did she have to stop in the middle of a corridor, where servants could stop and stare. Rumors were started with less and she wasn't moving, wasn't budging no matter how much he glared at her. "Pippa, can we please do this somewhere private? You're being-"

"What?" She snapped angrily and finally moved, storming down the hall and shoving past him, she tossed her loose hair over her shoulders, "What am I being? Unreasonable? Frustrating? Intolerable? _Please_ tell me. Because all of those things, _you_ kissed last night. All of those things you don't like about me, you _wanted_ last night. And you can get up on your shiny and fancy high horse, Jon Snow, but you're a damned idiot if you think I go around kissing anyone and anything and then letting you get off calling me an idiot for it."

"I never called you tha-."

"No. You didn't." She walked a little bit faster, "You just said that I was too drunk to know what I was doing and that I couldn't control my raging loneliness. Don't you think if I was lonely and out of control I might have gone for an easier target? Don't you remember _anything_ about last night?" She walked backward for a moment as if she expected an answer and when one did not come she spun on her heels and turned away. "I have duties to attend to."


End file.
